Yawwwwwwnnnnnnn
Man oh man have I been tired today. I stayed up well past midnight reading a book that wasn’t even great (I just wanted to get it over with) and was rudely awakened at 8:30 am by dear Annica. I’m not a morning person. I’m not an early riser. I don’t know how I used to manage to stay up till 11 and get up at 6. Now I go to bed at 11 and get up at 9. I wonder if there’s something wrong with me. How am I ever going to adjust to “real life” again? Annica told me I’m not living a “real life” because I told her I never check my voice mail and I don’t even know the code for it. It’s not that I am too stupid to remember the code. It’s simply that no one ever calls me. Plus I forget. If I had an answering machine with a little blinky light I’d have no problem. Oh, and there’s also the fact that I don’t want to erase a message that might be directed toward Mike since I have a big problem understanding Swedish over the phone line. If I was the designated voice mail checker he’d come home to messages like “hey, someone called and said ‘Olaf agafireggiea 89 alkdjienb 9′” Not that he ever gets any calls either. We are quite possibly the most boring people on the planet and we love it. I don’t understand why so many people want to be tied to their cell phones and answering machines. I want to hide from the world, not be more accessible.
Mike says we aren’t boring. Just tonight I declared us the most disgusting people in the history of the world (the whole “history of the world” thing is my favorite saying these days) because of our bizarre and sometimes nasty conversations. It must not have been that disgusting, though, because I can’t even remember it.
Paranoid Annica and her paranoid Russian lady friend decided Annica shouldn’t babysit for the Russian girl the rest of the week because Annica sat next to someone with a cold at work last night. I guess it’s good to avoid getting sick but that seems to border on the absurd. Of course, the Russian lady is terrified of illness anyway as evidenced by her complete freak out whenever Annica forgets to heat up the kid’s food. She has to nuke everything to kill the germs–yogurt, milk, water, pudding, whatever. The poor kid is not allowed to eat ice cream and the mother is convinced Swedish children are all going to die because they consume vast quantities of ice cream. She’s an odd one. She also thinks that the Swedes must have a very bad immune system since they get vaccinations for so many things. Her children have never had a vaccination for anything. I just hope that doesn’t come back to haunt her.
Oh yes. We were talking about my day, weren’t we?
Basically I spent 3 hours listening to Annica freak out about bank robbers. Surely those bank robbers are out there right now plotting Annica’s death and mutilation. She’s afraid to sleep. She’s afraid to go to the bank. She wants to cancel our little mini-hike next week because the robbers are surely hiding out in the forest and are going to take us hostage. I guess she enjoys having something out of the ordinary happen and now she has to milk it for all it’s worth. Is my utter apathy to the robbery a sign that the US really is a more dangerous place to live? Banks get robbed. Life goes on. I’d be scared if there were a serial raper or murderer on the loose, but a bank robber barely registers a blip on my scaredy-cat scale.
That said, I have had a fraidy-cat banker robber moment in my life. Actually, I’ve had two.
I went to a total rah-rah high school. Everyone but the most stoned of the stoners poured out their lungs during the pep assemblies. Everyone participated. I am still always surprised when I hear about poor school spirit. Anyway, we always had a home coming parade in downtown Klamath Falls. One year we saw guys with machine guns running around a building during our parade and we all assumed that the nutty folks on the student council were going to put on some sort of big show. They were big on shows. We found out later they were the SWAT team responding to a bank robbery! And they didn’t tell anyone! I guess it was better than causing mass panic (or curiosity) among 900 high school students and their parents. I wasn’t actually scared, but it’s my one true bank robber story.
Then we have my scardy-cat story. I needed to get some money out of the bank during my college years so begged a ride from a friend. I went in and stood in line and was letting my mind wander, as I’m wont to do. I noticed the guy in front of me was really fidgeting and kept looking all around more than you’d expect a person to look around. He had on a pair of bib overalls (it was Oklahoma after all) and kept sticking his hands inside them. Suddenly I decided he was a bank robber and had a gun down his pants. My sense of dread kept growing as he kept nervously twitching and staring. When we were almost to the front of the line I decided I did not want to be involved in a bank robbery and practically ran out the door. I jumped in the car and yelled at my friend to drive away! She thought I was nuts when I told her what was going on, and I probably was. I never did hear anything about that bank being robbed, but to this day I am somewhat convinced that the guy was up to no good. I felt justified later that year when I read The Gift of Fear. It basically said you should trust your instincts in situations like that–better safe than sorry and all that.
And now, my dear blog buddies, I think it is long past my bed time. I hope I sleep tonight. Last night I was having weird nightmares about machines taking over the world haunted ski resorts, wild balloon rides in Disney land, and vacuums from vending machines. There must be a good book in that somewhere, right?
How about a quick question first? Saturday night we are having Annica and her family over for Pizza Night. I’m baking American pizza and my special Chocolate Bliss cheesecake. I kind of want to make some sort of appetizer because her husband is a right proper pig. I use a big cookie sheet thing to make the pizza and I know Mike, myself and Annica will have just enough. I don’t think her hubby will though. What would be a good appetizer for pizza? Garlic bread sticks? How do you make those? I guess I should look it up. Ideas are welcome. I am not grudging Bjorn his pigginess–I just want to make sure I fill him up. He told Annica that he loves coming to dinner at our place because I know how to cook. I want to live up to his expectations now!
August 28th, 2003 at 5:34 am
Garlic breadsticks would be great! Or pretzels…Oh dear…all the carbohydrates! I love carbs…and I’m sitting here eating a plate of beef stroganoff. Yum! Anyway, I digress. You could do cheese sticks. All of those would be yummy in marinara sauce. And if you’re going to have pizza, you might as well have beer.
August 28th, 2003 at 5:30 pm
Mozzarella cheese sticks are yummy! I’d make a big salad with weird things in it like walnuts and red onions and bacon… but I don’ t know what Swede’s would think of that.